


Some Kind of Pyrrhic Victory

by clxude



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety Attacks, First Meetings, Friendship, M/M, Soulmate Tattoos, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Team Bonding, really minor tho!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10189271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: “I’ll beat you Ushiwaka!”He cries, choking on laughter. “Who’s your soulmate, Oikawa?”Tsutomu blinks. “Who?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> hqrpe for carlysins!!! goshihina and soulmates au. i hope you enjoy!!  
> shoutout to scoobyatemysnax.tumblr.com for editing bc there were so many tense errors rip
> 
> My kink is when ao3 adds tags randomly

 

Tsutomu was a month into his first year at Shiratorizawa the first time the conversation comes up.

 

“You haven’t met yours?” Tendou asked, the only voice in the quiet. He had invited the team over for a  _ party -  _ but even at that point, Tsutomu shouldn’t have been surprised when it quickly warped into the team lounging in the living room, sipping on the detox smoothies Reon was obsessed with and watching 80’s anime. 

 

“No,” Tsutomu replied, honest, happy to have a distraction from the mechas. 

 

“Mmm,” Tendou said, stretching out,  half of his body barely staying on the couch. “Makes sense. You’re only, what, fifteen? I was your age when I met mine, and Reon only met his at nationals last year.”

 

Tsutomu nodded. He hadn’t met Kai, but with all the skype dates in the dorms and texting on the way to practice matches and classes between delegating out snacks, Tsutomu felt like he had. 

 

“You have time. There’s no need to worry.”

 

…

 

Tsutomu wasn’t one to think about soulmates often. He was busy, doing his best to fight Ushijima-senpai for the ace position and ward off any other possible competitors. It’s was a full time job, really, when it was paired along side keeping his grades high enough to keep his spot on the team.

 

But after that night, when Tendou brought it up before getting half the team tipsy on sake stolen from his parents’ liquor cabinet (not Tsutomu, though - gracious no. He was the baby of the team, after all), he started to think about it more.

 

He wasn’t sure what he wanted - Reon and Tendou were the only ones on the team with soulmates so far, and he wasn’t sure he wanted what they had. Reon had an eight hour train ride every other month, and Tendou whenever he could meet up with the first year college student a prefecture away. 

 

He wanted and wanted and  _ wanted,  _ but he wasn’t sure what he was going after.

 

…

 

Two months into the school year, Semi-san sees his tattoo and snorts. It’s before practice in the locker room, and when Tendou sees it as well, he laughs, holding onto Semi to keep his balance.

 

_ “I’ll beat you Ushiwaka!”  _ He cries, choking on laughter. “Who’s your soulmate, Oikawa?”

 

Tsutomu blinks. “Who?”

 

“God, I love you, Goshiki,” Tendou says, finally catching his breath.

 

“Stop traumatizing him,” Reon says as he walks into the room. 

 

“Have you seen his tattoo, Reon?” He pauses for a second, and then ends up not waiting for Reon to answer.  _ “I’ll beat yo - “ _

 

He doesn’t finish, and starts laughing again. Reon sighs. 

 

…

 

He meets Kai a few months later, when Nekoma comes down from Tokyo for a practice match against a local school. He’s smaller than Reon, thinner, and he seems to fold into Reon’s side, as calm and collected as his soulmate. 

 

“What school are you playing?” Tendou asks.

 

“Karasuno.” Kai smiles. “We’re long time rivals, but it’s been a few years since we’ve played.”

 

Ushijima scowls, his features hardening. It’s weird, and it puts Tsutomu on edge. Normally, the captain looks so impassive and sure. If Tsutomu didn’t know any better, he would almost say the ace looks -  _ scared. _

 

“Karasuno,” He says. “An easy opponent to defeat. I’m sure the training camp will be beneficial for your team.”

 

Ushijima leaves soon after,  _ looking for dogs,  _ Tendou says, but he seems worried, watching Ushijima lace up his sneakers and run down the sidewalk.

 

“You’re a starter as well?” Kai asks Tsutomu. 

 

The team is at a cafe, but Ushijima is still gone. Tendou watches his phone like a hawk, and he calls Ushijima occasionally, face pinched and sour.

 

“That’s impressive.”

 

He nods. “I - I want to be the ace next year. I’m going to surpass Ushijima-senpai and win nationals.”

 

Kai smiles, laughter soft and breathy. “We have a few first years on our team. Lev wants to be the ace as well. He’s not as good as you, though. Our setter can’t stand him. The two of them still can’t sync up.”

 

“Tsutomu is a good player,” Reon says. “But he still has room to grow.”

 

…

 

The game against Seijoh is loud, terrifying. Coach Washijou puts him in for almost the entire game, and his hands shake from the second he steps onto the court until he sends a straight between a wall of third year blockers and one of the antenna. 

 

Tendou slaps him on the back, smirking. He’s a monster on the court - Goshiki is glad they’re on the same side, that his spikes will never have to go up against his almost omniscient blocking.

 

And in the end, they win, and all of the third years smile, dragging the rest of the team out to dinner.

 

“We’re going to win nationals,” Shirabu says. 

 

…

 

They don’t win, because Nationals is a completely different kind of beast. Tsutomu isn’t scared as he walks onto the orange court, because thoughts like  _ we can win,  _ and  _ we can do anything,  _ and  _ Ushijima-senpai is unstoppable  _ fill his mind. 

 

But it’s still too much, and he clings to every point they score, hoards them close like precious gems. But it’s still not enough. They’re out in semifinals, and Tsutomu is happy with that. It’s amazing, to him - only a first year and already a starter for a nationally recognized team. 

 

But the third years cry on the bus ride home, because this is the end of the line for them. Most players retire before the spring tournament, and most of them aren’t any different. Ushijima will stay, Ushijima will carry them to the championship - but if he wasn’t enough now, how would he, how would  _ any  _ of them, be enough come December?

 

…

 

He thinks about soulmates again, when Shirabu meets his. Tsutomu doesn’t ask questions, after Shirabu nearly bites Semi’s head off when he asks their name. He thinks about having someone close, someone who will push him even further. 

 

It’s scary, the way he’s almost reliant on a person he can put four words to, but not a face or a name or a voice. It’s scary, but he thinks of Reon and Tendou and Shirabu, and thinks,  _ yes, I could live like that. _

 

…

 

He pours himself - every ounce of blood and flesh and determination - into practice after the loss. He knows it isn’t his fault that they lost - the rest of the team tell him plenty of times, countless times, after Jin finds him crying in the bathroom, sobbing about how if he was faster, if he was  _ stronger -  _

 

But, like they say, it’s not his fault.

 

But, like Reon said, there’s always room for improvement, always space to grow.

 

So he practices until his palms are red and peeling, until Washijou himself has to drag Tsutomu’s ass back to the dorms. In October, he teaches himself to set against his door until his roommate threatens to report him to their RA. He starts setting against the outer gym wall and jams his finger at 2 AM, and that’s the end of that.

 

…

 

They beat Kesenike West easily, and Reon has to start handing over snacks to make him stop jumping up in his seat every two seconds on the bus ride back to campus. 

 

They’re going to  _ nationals -  _ or, not yet exactly, but he remembers what Ushijima-senpai said all those months ago, when Reon’s soulmate was visiting. Beating Seijoh was a fluke. The national stage will be Shiratorizawa’s.

 

…

 

“Be careful not to eat too much before warm ups,” Reon says as they enter the gymnasium in Sendai the next day, but he’s still reaching into his fanny pack to hand Tsutomu a pack of gummy worms. He’s not nervous, per se, just excited, with excess energy gathering in his shaky hands and jittery feet.

 

He nods, because there’s no reason to worry. They’ll be  _ fine,  _ and that’s the mantra in his head as they walk through the hallways, waving at spectators who made the trek from Shiratorizawa. They’re in the same locker room as the day before, and the majority of the team claim the same lockers as the day before, as well, except for Tendou, who drops his bag on the floor and flops onto the closest bench.

 

“Are you dying?” Shirabu asks, nudging Tendou’s shoulder with a hard flick of his foot. “I’ll kill you if you’re dying.”

 

“Mmm, no,” Tendou sighs. “Wish I was, though. I was too excited to sleep last night, so I put on some shoujo, and then I got too invested and stayed up way later than I intended. I’m just so - “ he stops, yawning widely before snuggling back in on himself. “So many regrets, Kenji-chan.”

 

Shirabu scoffs, turning away to pull his knee pads out of his gym bag. “Good to know, Tendou-san. I’m not setting to you today, then.”

 

“That’s fine,” Tendou smiles, a bit dreamy, “We have our miracle boy Wakatoshi, after all. I just have to block.”

 

…

 

They walk onto the court, and there’s only one thing on Tsutomu’s mind - victory over all. It’s a singular thought, a simple goal, the one expected -  _ asked  _ \- of him. It’s not much, and it shouldn’t be hard to comply, not when he’s a regular at Shiratorizawa, the crown jewel of Miyagi boys’ volleyball.

 

_ “I’ll beat you Ushiwaka!”  _

 

He feels like he’s underwater, once he reaches the tipping point, once the catalyst explodes in his chest. It’s like staring into the sun, or opening your eyes to discover the world isn’t quite what you believed. Or maybe it’s like being brought to life, dragged from the bottom of a cold ocean that had once been your home.

 

Or maybe - 

 

_ “Tsutomu!”  _ There’s warm hands on his face, shaking him, waking him up. Reon stares at him, worried, mouth tight.

 

“I’m fine,” He says, “Promise.”

 

“Tsutomu,” He repeats, because even Tsutomu, who has no idea what just happened, can tell he is  _ not  _ fine. 

 

He looks over Reon’s shoulder, and his eyes connect with Karasuno’s number ten, the shrimpy everyone has been talking about since the summer tournament. People like Ushijima-senpai and Tendou taught Goshiki Tsutomu not to care about people like Karasuno’s number ten, because people like Karasuno’s number ten can never make it past elementary school clubs when things like height are the primary way to gain control. 

 

But people like Karasuno’s number ten, when they stare, eyes sharp, piercing Tsutomu’s soul, Tsutomu starts to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t be listening to his senpais’ words like gospel.

 

“What hap - “ He starts, before restarting and saying, “Is he - “

 

But Coach Washijou stops him. “You’re on the bench for the rest of the season the second you start to let this affect your play.”

 

“Of course,” He nods, agreeing, because he  _ still  _ doesn’t quite know what happened, or why Reon is still watching him with a faint look of pity. “Of course, Coach.”

 

The game starts and he still feels like he’s underwater, pressing up against the bottom of the surface - able to see the world above through a foggy haze, but still unable to escape and breathe. 

 

But, he still sucks it up and plays - plays his part on the court to the best of his abilities. The rest of the team play for him, and Washijou doesn’t mention it whenever Karasuno’s coach calls for a time out. He just needs more time to find his grounding, and they’re giving him that.

 

But then it’s a break between sets - the third and the fourth. Karasuno is starting to make a comeback, but Tsutomu is still so stuck in his little rabbit hole it’s hard to notice. He lets the assistant coach know where he’s going before stumbling off to the bathroom, sweaty and gross.

 

He stands in front of the sink, clutching at the rim. His breathing had slowed on the walk from the court, but he’s still dizzy, head still light from too little oxygen and too much existential crisis. 

 

The door swings open, and from the mirror, he can see it’s Karasuno’s number ten. He doesn’t say anything to Tsutomu, just stands with his back against the door, still, watching him.

 

“Are you okay?” He finally asks. “You seemed off, after I - “

 

“We’re soulmates, aren’t we?” Tsutomu asks, finally able to voice his tentative conclusion. “That’s what - that’s what it all meant, right?”

 

What  _ it  _ is referencing, Tsutomu doesn’t really know, but number ten seems to, and he nods. 

 

“Okay,” He says. “Okay.” He pushes away from the sink and looks Karasuno’s number ten in the eye. He looks at him - his sunshine orange hair, the way his eyes seem to take in everything at once, the taunt definition of his muscles. And, he means it when he says, “I won’t let you stop me from winning.”

 

Karasuno’s number ten almost looks happy when he says that, something gleaming in his eyes. “I don’t expect you to.”

 

…

 

They lose in the end, and it makes Tsutomu feel like crying. It wells up in him, chokes him out, until he’s sobbing. 

 

_ This isn’t your fault, this isn’t your fault, this isn’t your fault -  _

 

It’s a different kind of mantra, more somber than the one just a few hours previous. But it’s still there, destroying him.

 

…

 

“Go talk to him,” Soekawa says, smiling. “I’ll make sure the bus waits until you get back.”

 

Tsutomu nods, and runs.

 

…

 

Karasuno is still in the gymnasium, the coach and captain in the middle of interviews. Tsutomu stands at the edge of of it all, searching, for Karasuno’s number ten, his  _ soulmate.  _ It feels weird to think of the ginger like that when Tsutomu still doesn’t even know his name.

 

“Hinata’s puking in the bathroom. He should be back soon.” One of Karasuno’s players says. Tsutomu recognizes him as the first year who blocked Ushijima-senpai, and a red hot band of anger coils its way around Tsutomu’s throat. 

 

He ignores it, and stares up at the blocker, sees his own reflection in the sports goggles. It’s just another high schooler, just another person to shove out of his way on his ascent to the top. He won’t be the next Ushijima Wakatoshi, Shiratorizawa’s superstar ace. 

 

He’s going to be the best.

 

“Hinata, get your ass over here!” 

 

“No!” Someone - Hinata, Tsutomu assumes - yells back. “People are talking to me!”

 

“Your soulmate is here, dumbass!” The middle blocker looks at Tsutomu, rolling his eyes.

 

“Oh, I - coming!” Tsutomu watches Hinata run across the court, barely having to duck to go under the net. He skids to a stop beside Tsutomu, smiling, face flush. “I’m here.”

 

“We know,” The middle blocker replies sardonically. “We both saw.”

 

“You don’t have to be mean, Stingyshima,” Hinata bites out. “Go annoy Yamaguchi or something.”

 

The blond - Stingyshima? Tsutomu doesn’t ask - scowls, adjusts his glasses like he’s in one of Tendou’s shounen anime. “Try not to get an STD,” he spits out before stomping away.

 

“Do you want to…?”

 

Tsutomu knows he doesn’t have much time - Shiratorizawa will be leaving soon. He licks his lips, glances around, before finally saying, “Come with me,” to Hinata and dragging him off the court.

 

Hinata stumbles behind him. His wrist is skinny, frail like bird bones. Tsutomu knows it’s not, but he still loosens his grip.

 

“I have to go soon,” He says, feeling a bit dizzy, a bit breathless, a bit consumed by the sudden racing of his heart, the shortness of his breath. “I’m sorry, I - my team is waiting for me.”

 

Whatever smile, whatever happy glow had been left over from winning,  is gone. “Oh,” He says, a few seconds later, short and rushed, like he finally realized he hadn’t responded. “Can I have your number, then?”

 

Tsutomu rattles it off, still holding onto Hinata’s wrist. He doesn’t want to let go, only switches hands so he can thumb in Hinata’s number as well.

 

“Can I see you again?” Hinata asks, before blushing, shaking his head. “Ugh, sorry, ah, can I see you soon?”

 

Tsutomu squeezes his wrist, just a half second of barely-there pressure. “Of course.”

 

…

 

Five minutes later, he’s back on the bus, falling into the first window seat he can find. Tendou looks like he wants to ask a question, but Reon stops him. 

 

He stares out the window - Karasuno is just beginning to leave the gymnasium, and Hinata -  _ Shouyou,  _ he had learned - stands at the top of the stairs. He waves, and even though Tsutomu knows Hinata can’t see him, waves back. 

 

“So,” Tendou finally says, once the bus is pulling away. “Your tattoo was right.”

 

“Shut up,” he says, but he’s smiling, lips tingling, gripping his phone.

…

 

**_Incoming message: 11:34 PM_ **

_ Good night, Tsutomu!! Talk to you in the morning!! _

 

**_Outgoing message: 11:35 PM_ **

_ Good night, Shouyou _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this!!! i had a lot of fun writing it  
> you can reach me at either c10p or mother-iwa-chan on tumblr, or cactixix on twitter!!


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